The Bonds Of Lycanthropy
by ILoveCheetos-and-AteIsa
Summary: Whatever just happened back there, when that clock struck twelve, had somehow turned him into some sort of.. Human wolf? Then it hit him. Werewolf. (Rated T for violence/gore, just to be safe)
1. A Conflict Of Emotions

**Written by my friend, AteIsa**

**Author note:** So yeah, the Werewolf AU nobody asked for! This story is definitely darker than my other fanfics before this, but it was an idea I had to try. Prepare for some angst, some violence, gore...

Oh, and sappy Washingdad fluff.

* * *

Anger, panic, worry, regret, and fear; a combination of emotions that were best not felt all at once.

But that was exactly what George Washington was feeling, nonetheless—with burning intensity, even.

George stared hard at the map which was mounted upon his office's wall, desperately trying to understand. Trying to understand that question he wanted so desperately answered:

Why did it have to be him?

George stared at the quill in his hand and clenched his fist around it. He had to find him. He couldn't just give him up, like everyone else had adviced him to do. For one thing, he was very crucial to the war. He felt too much would be at stake if they gave him up. And second, he simply just could not let him go. He refused to. Not yet.

"He's for sure dead, sir, you're going to have to replace him soon," Nathaniel Greene had chastised, looking worried.

"The boy's dead, Washington, you have to realize that he has been gone for far to long to still be alive now," Charles Lee had sighed, giving him a look.

These were the sort of things everyone kept telling him. But he was the General. He would be the one to decide when the search would be finished. No one else but him.

Snapping him out of his thoughts were several loud shouts of alarm as the crunching of boots ran through the camp quickly, crushing fallen twigs and kicking aside small stones.

George, on a whim, decided to stop brooding to check out what was going on, so he stuffed the quill into his pocket and rushed out. His eyes were immediately greeted by the sight of a crowd of alarmed aides following two men who were swiftly carrying another unconscious, limp one.

George pushed through the crowd to see who he was, his breath heaving erratically. The thin form looked familiar, yet he also looked so unfamiliar that it was alarming. George both hoped and dreaded that it was him.

But as he got closer, his hopes and fears were both simultaneously confirmed as he caught up behind John Laurens and The Marquis De Lafayette to see who they were carrying. His heart all but stopped beating completely when he saw that the unconscious man was, in fact, Alexander Hamilton himself.

George's breath caught in his throat, and he forced himself not to sob as an overwhelming rush of emotions threatened to overflow. Both relief and terrified shock pushed the tears behind his eyes as he saw his right hand man, alive and found. But..

His condition was so terrifying, George almost wished it wasn't him. His hair was in a tangle, dirt and sand making it look darker than what was natural. His face, arms, and all other exposed parts of his body was covered in scars, bruises, hardened mud, and—George gave a shuddering gasp—blood caked all over him.

George came up beside John and Lafayette, who gave him one look and immediately began speaking. "Your Excellency! Please forgive us!" Lafayette cried, stumbling as he continued running forward to, George now realized, the clinic.

"We couldn't bear waiting any longer, Your Excellency, sir!" John exclaimed. "We had to find him ourselves, and we were afraid you were going to stop us, and we do apologize for sneaking out the way we did—"

"Laurens, Lafayette, this is not the time. I need to know; where did you find him?" George cut off the violent income of unnecessary apologies swiftly as he lifted the clinic's tent flap, holding his left hand up to stop all the other following aides from entering.

He let the flap fall and skidded forward to where John and Lafayette were placing Alexander down onto a cot.

"He was tied to tree, sir." John lifted Alexander's head and slipped a pillow underneath it.

"Tied to a tree?" George echoed with a faltering voice. "Was he not guarded?"

"N-No sir.." Lafayette avoided the general's gaze, grimacing.

"He was unguarded? Are you sure it wasn't a trap?" George took the wet cloth John was offering him. He had rushed out immediately to the creek a moment ago.

"Yes, sir, we were particularly careful about that," John panted, taking off Alexander's coat with the help of Lafayette. "It took a lot longer than I had hoped, but at least we know we weren't followed."

"But—But why would those Redcoats just abandon a captive?" George wiped his face with his free hand and started to wipe Alexander down the best he could, shoving off the hardened mud and blood as gently as possible.

"I don't know.. Maybe they were done with whatever they wanted him for?" John scratched his head, his voice weak as he helped Lafayette pull off Alexander's boots.

George was silent for a moment as he cleaned his aide up. He stared at Alexander's face, which seemed to be in pain. George ran the cloth over it, but his expression did not change.

Before the three could continue talking, the doctor finally came in. Immediately, he grabbed his bag and shooed John and Lafayette away from Alexander. "Go. I can't have you two distracting my analysis."

John looked offended, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Lafayette just pulled on his friend's arm and whispered something in his ear. After a moment, John finally consented, letting him pull him away.

George stared after them, then turned back to the doctor, who was watching him with an eyebrow raised.

George shook his head. "No. I'm staying here."

The doctor, Dr. West, looked exasperated. "But sir—"

"I said no." George's voice was stern now, causing the doctor to shut up. "Besides, I'm not going to disturb you. What do you think of me?"

Dr. West went red in the face. "Of course. I'm sorry, sir."

The next few minutes were utterly silent except for Dr. West's muttering, and the occasional clinking of equipment. But after about an hour of silence, Dr. West shook his head and closed his case with a light click.

George, who had been staring into space at the wall, turned to him, a little startled. "How is he?" George asked, standing immediately.

"It's not good, Your Excellency." Dr. West bit his lips anxiously. "His heart rate is unnaturally high, and as is the case for his blood pressure. His breathing is also alarmingly uneven, sir, but there isn't much I can do."

George ran his hand over his face worriedly and nodded as he processed all this news. "Alright," He managed. "Thank you." He nodded at the doctor in thanks, who nodded in reply and left.

Pulling his chair closer, he studied the boy's face.

George had never seen Alexander so restless in his entire life, and he had seen him restless quite a lot of times. What could those Redcoats have done to him that caused him to be like this?

He pulled Alexander's long hair off of his face and sighed. George rubbed his own eyes, which were moist. He just wished that Alexander would wake up, then this whole nightmare could be over.

George didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but the next thing he new, he was suddenly awakened by a low growl. When he opened his eyes, he saw Alexander stirring slightly. He yawned, something in his mouth shining against the candlelight brightly. George narrowed his eyes and tried to peer inside, but Alexander snapped his mouth shut too quickly.

Then he opened his eyes.

George broke into a wide smile. "Alexander."

The young secretary looked around, then spotted George sitting near him. Alexander blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Uhh, hi?" He murmured, gingerly clutching his head and grimacing.

George turned and called out to the nearest aides, "Please find John Laurens and The Marquis De Lafayette and tell them to come here!"

Almost immediately afterwards, John and Lafayette came running into the tent with panicked expressions on their faces. But the panic immediately melted away and was replaced by huge grins of joy when Alex looked up at them in surprise.

"Alexander!" They cried simultaneously, rushing to him. They both wrapped their arms around him, and Alex was almost knocked backwards and off the cot by the force of it.

Alex returned the hugs, but still looked somewhat confused as he looked at his two friends. "Did I go somewhere?" He asked, turning to the General through the tangle of arms for some explanation.

George's grin slipped off his face, and John and Lafayette pulled away, staring at him in confusion. They sat beside him on the cot.

Alex cocked his head to the side. "Not that I'm ungrateful for a little appreciation of my existence," He added hurriedly, chuckling. "But.. What happened? Was I sick, or something?"

John, Lafayette, and George all stared at each other in turn with wide eyes. Did he not remember?

"Alexander," George asked gravely. "Do you really not remember?"

Alexander seemed to be becoming a little amused. "No?"

George and the other two looked at each other again.

"So.." John muttered, staring hard at his friend. "You don't remember you were captured by the British about a month ago?"

Alex made a shocked face and didn't respond.

"And," Lafayette added. "That you were gone for as long as that?"

Alex opened and closed his mouth, lost for words, then gave a weak laugh. "You're—you're kidding, right?"

George slowly shook his head, and Alexander blanched, reaching up to his head again with a trembling hand. "But—but I can't—" He let out a shuddering breath. "Eliza must be worried sick!" He whispered to himself.

George put his hand on the boy's shoulder and tightened it reassuringly. "Relax, Alexander, we'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."

His voice was consoling, which helped Alex and the other two relax, but he himself was not calm at all. What did those Redcoats do to him?


	2. The First Transformation

The half-moon was high in the sky now. George had insisted that, since Dr. West had left the camp early for the day (His wife was giving birth), Alexander should stay the night at the clinic, instead of the bunks. It would be quicker, he had said, so that when the doctor arrives, he could get started checking him immediately. And after a bit more persuasion, Alexander consented.

After a quick wash-up, John brought him his dinner and a book, and had kept him company for as long as he could, until the General finally called him away to let Alex rest (He had realized that John was still there only when the two burst into a particularly loud round of laughter).

So now Alex was alone, with nothing but the empty, wooden bowl and his book to keep him company.

Alexander didn't really feel like reading, which was a little odd, because the book John had brought him was one of his favorites. But somehow, tonight didn't really feel right for it.

Alex continued to stare at the flickering flame of the newly lit candle and tried to see if he could remember anything, anything at all from the time he had been captured, but his stubborn mind continued to draw a blank.

After a while, he realized that all his thinking was beginning to make him thirsty, so Alexander stood and silently made his way to the small creek behind the tent, his empty cup in hand.

After several gulps of refreshing water, something caught Alex's eye. It was a bright flash of light coming straight from his mouth. He frowned at his reflection in the creek, then opened his mouth again.

Immediately, the moonlight reflected what was in his mouth, which was actually just his teeth.

... Which had grown alarmingly longer and sharper and thicker than what was normal for a human being.

Alex froze, staring at his now animal-like teeth in shock. He swallowed nervously and opened his mouth again, but the sharp, white, elongated teeth still remained.

_Maybe.. Maybe it's just the reflection,_ Alex thought frantically, lifting his hand into his mouth to feel it.

Almost immediately, his finger caught on a large, thick and pointed stick in his mouth, which was, of course, his teeth.

Alex felt all around his mouth. _All_ of his teeth had somehow transformed. He tried to contain himself as he felt around his mouth with his tongue, but he all but screamed in panic.

He went back inside the tent, bewildered and terrified. He had no idea how, but it seemed that this had to somehow be connected to whatever happened when the Redcoats had captured him, but what could they have possibly done?

Alex turned around to where the clock was hanging. It was ticking ominously, and he had a strange feeling that once it reached midnight, something terrible would happen to him.

So he continued to stare, mesmerized, at the small hands as they continued to tick away.

Then the clock struck twelve.

Almost immediately, he felt an excruciating pain explode all over his body, and he forced himself not to scream as he collapsed to his knees. He clutched his head, a yell breaking through his lips. He could feel hair flowing out of the sides of his face, his back, and the backs of his limbs. Pain exploded in his bottom as something long and fuzzy forced its way out of his tailbone, and his ears stretched themselves upwards. But worst of all were his fingers and toes, which were contorting themselves into.. Claws!?

Alex grit his teeth, hard, but, completely against his will; he howled. Howled with fear, horror, and agony.

Alexander trembled and collapsed to the ground. He took several desperate breaths of air, trying to recover himself. He was terribly afraid of finding out what exactly just happened to him, but he knew he had no choice.

Standing slowly, he made a beeline for the old mirror, and his hand flew to his mouth just as he was about to scream.

Whatever just happened back there, when that clock struck twelve, had somehow turned him into some sort of.. Human wolf?

Then it hit him. _Werewolf_.

Alex had read folklore and stories about this sort of thing, but those things were supposed to be impossible! A myth!

_Apparently not._ His brain told him as Alex continued to stare in horror at himself in the small, cracked mirror.

Alexander shakily looked down at his hands—claws, he corrected himself. He turned them around, and he saw a fine line of fur ran across the back of his hands and down the back of his arms. The color of his newfound fur was auburn, which was the same color as his hair, actually, which was interesting; but he was not in a good state to play scientist.

Sitting down on his bottom, he tugged off his boots to reveal that his feet had been transformed as well. Alex shuddered, then yelped silently as something under his butt lodged itself against the ground painfully.

He pulled at the thing, until a sharp pain caused him to cry out. Then he realized that the thing was actually _attached_ to him.

Then it hit him (Literally and figuratively. It slapped itself on his back painfully). It was a _tail_. He was only grateful it wasn't any lower, so he could still stick it out. Otherwise, it would either be pain, or embarrassment.

Alexander touched the side of his head, where his ears seemed to have disappeared. He felt his panic begin to rise again, until he found them at the top of his head, where he found them poking out of his hair. They were twitching around, catching even the smallest of sounds from the tent and outside of it. The weak gusts of wind, the pitter-patter of small animals, and the silent snoring of his fellow aides.

Alexander curled his knees into his chest, his contorted feet scraping noisily on the soil beneath him. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperate for anything to help him understand.

Then an extreme dizziness made him clutch his head in pain, and somehow, he could now see—

_Redcoats were everywhere. One Redcoat, in particular, caught his eyes. He was holding a stick that was rounded at the end, and was crushing an unrecognizable thing into a bowl. It was filled with a strange, thick black mixture, that disturbingly reminded him of blood._

_Looking down, he found he was tied against a hard surface, and he was struggling against the biting ropes around him desperately, but to no avail.._

Then as fast as it happened, the sudden rush of memories stopped.

_No, no, no!_ Alex clutched his head and moaned. He _needed_ to know what happened next! He had to understand!

Yet no matter how hard he tried, his brain refused to send him any more memories of what had happened to him. But instead of the memories he so desperately wanted, he felt a strange, wolfish instinct kick in, and he felt it beginning to draining his human self. He shoved the panic out of his head for now and desperately forced the wolf in him to make way for rational thought. He needed to get help, and fast, especially judging on how he could feel himself itching to.. Eat..

He lightly pounded himself in the head and forced himself to focus. He first thought of John and Lafayette, who he knew he could trust with this sort of thing, but then ultimately decided against it. They were probably asleep, and waking them up in the middle of the night in this form was really not a good idea. He shuddered at the thought of them panicking and trying to shoot him. Then something in his mind made him lick his lips in anticipation of a.. Meal? No! No... He forced himself to turn his thoughts away.

The General was a better option. He was usually still awake at this time (Alex should know—he'd spent nights working late as well). Sure, he hated looking weak in front of him, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The strange, wolfish urge told him to get moving, and Alex rushed out and took the long way to the General's tent, so he could lower the risk of being spotted.

But when he came near entrance, he felt hesitation and fear suddenly overwhelm him. What if he didn't want to help him? What if—what if he would think he was.. Some sort of monster?

Suddenly, Alexander wasn't so sure this was a great idea. But.. He felt an increasing hunger seize him, and he rushed forward to the tent.

Suddenly, two men who had been standing a little farther inside the entrance came into view. They froze at the sight of him, but the lamplight wasn't strong enough for them to clearly see who he was. What he was. What he had become. He stopped as he saw the glint of a pistol in their holsters.

One of the guards elbowed his friend nervously, and his friend elbowed him back. They began to argue quietly.

Finally, the first man consented and shuffled forward slowly, hesitantly. He seemed nervous.

Alexander was terrified. One part of him told him that he should run, while the other urged him to attack. The conflict, however, just ended up making him staying still as a statue—and as vulnerable as one, as well.

Soon, the man was in close enough proximity to see what he truly was, and he gasped, "What the—" He grasped at his pistol.

Alexander desperately tried to make his throat work, but all that came out was a high whimper.

The man had slowly begun to raise the gun now, and as he stared at him, he whispered, "What sort of monster are you?!"

Then that was it.

Just as the gunshot sounded, Alex had bolted away on all fours, over the creek and into the forest.

The man didn't follow him. He just stood, shaking as he stared at where Alex had gone. The General rushed out of his tent then. "What happened?" He demanded, sounding alarmed. "Why did you shoot your gun? And why are you so pale?"

The man was still staring in the direction Alexander had run, and Washington had to grab him by the shoulders. "What happened?!" He repeated, snapping the man back to the present.

Alex watched as the man stared at the General with a fearful expression. "There—there was a—a—" The man swallowed hard to compose himself.

His friend, the other guard, came up beside them. "What was it?" He asked, sounded really worried.

Washington turned back to the terrified guard with a bewildered and concerned expression.

The guard bit his lip and looked up at the General. "It—it had... I don't even know what sort of creature it was..."

"Monster, more like it." His friend shuddered. "From what I could see, it was hideous!"

As the men continued to talk, Alex shrank farther and farther back into the bushes. He really couldn't ask for help now. He pounded his fist into the ground with a growl of frustration.

He could feel a violent urge to run out of his hiding place and attack... Attack everyone who seemed to be incredibly intent on hating him. He felt his mind shift. He felt his claws stretch out...

Some of the other aides had come out now to see what the commotion was about. Through the murmur of the crowd, he heard John yelling, "What If this 'monster' got to Alexander?! It could eat him alive!"

When they heard this, George and Lafayette (Led by John) immediately dashed through the crowd and hurried to the clinic.

Alexander's amplified hearing caught all the conversation the distant men had been having with ease, but the moment he heard his name, he gasped and stood. He dashed, unnaturally fast, back to the clinic, his mind abruptly reverting back to his human self. The moment he reached the tent, he dove into his cot and pulled the covers over him.

Immediately after, the tent opened, and the three filed in, then stopped. John let out a small exhale of relief, and Lafayette whispered. "He seems to have slept quite soundly during all that noise."

"Good." George said silently. "He doesn't need any more problems besides the ones he already has."

_Oh, if only you knew._ Alexander thought sullenly as they left, wrapping the blanket tighter around him to keep himself from bolting up to do who knows what.


	3. The Monster

Word of the "Monster" spread fast around the camp. The aides, soldiers, and generals alike were all taking about it with morbid interest, while simultaneously seeming extremely worried about what it could be.

"It could be an omen of death.." One man whispered to his friend. "I even heard a loud howl before the incident happened."

"Don't be daft, Benjamin," The other man, Andre, had replied, shuddering. "You'll scare people."

"It could be true, though!" Benjamin replied defiantly.

George, John and Lafayette all came to check on Alexander in the morning just a few minutes after the sun came up. Thankfully, the moment the sun had risen, Alex had returned back to normal.

Except for his teeth, that is.

"Did you hear about last night?" John asked, sitting on Alexander's bed as he handed his friend his morning grub.

"No?" Alex lied, spooning the warm, though not particularly delicious stew into his mouth.

"You must have slept well, then. There was a sighting of some sort of monster!" Lafayette cried, looking a little too excited for Alexander's taste.

"Monster..?" Alex said slowly, avoiding his friends' gaze and swallowing the grub with sudden difficulty.

"Yes." John nodded. "One of the guards had spotted this large, beastly form that was sitting right outside the General's tent."

"He went to investigate it," Lafayette continued for his friend. "He said that when he came into close enough proximity, he saw this creature with pointy ears, and _huuuuge_ claws."

"'Said it was one of the most hideous things he'd ever seen." John smirked, sipping from Alexander's glass.

The owner of the said glass himself began to feel sick, and he felt like he was going to be sick, as well. The food he had just eaten seemed to wriggle around in his stomach, making him gag silently.

".. Then," _O__h gosh, will they ever stop talking?_ "He tried to shoot it, but it supposedly also has terrifying speed, because the next thing he knew, it had disappeared into the forest!" Lafayette ran his hand across the air to mime what he just said.

Alexander couldn't bear to look at them as he muttered, "Wow."

John and Lafayette fell silent. John, sounding worried, asked, "Alexander, are you alright?"

Alexander slurped the remaining grub loudly and nodded, standing and hurrying out to the creek to rinse it.

When he returned, he found his friends still sitting there, but in an unfamiliar and silent way. They seemed to be unsure now whether they were still welcome or not. They didn't talk anymore as the three of them waited for Dr. West to return to check on Alexander, but the said doctor seemed to be taking a long time to do so.

When it was around noon time, his friends left him alone so they could assist in the fixing of the cannons the British had destroyed in the last battle. Alexander was grateful they were gone—he felt that he would go mad with their unceasing interest in that so called hideous monster.

Alexander was now reading the book John had brought him as he lay upside down in the cot, still waiting for the arrival of the doctor. He didn't understand why he was taking so long, and he'd really prefer it if he was out helping and distracting his mind. Alas, the General had given strict orders to stay in the tent unless Dr. West or himself gave him permission to leave.

Alexander groaned to himself silently as the idiotic man in his book said a very stupid thing to a woman whom the said man fancied, and who Alex suspected to be a witch. He turned to the next page to see what would happen next, when his stomach grumbled loudly.

Alexander was used to being hungry. It happened saddeningly often as an aide, but this time, he felt a sudden and strange urge overcome him as it happened.

Alexander coughed, putting his book down. He felt his heart rate go up, and his sense of control seemed to dissipate as his hunger became much more apparent.

Alexander shook his head and tried to calm himself. His sense of smell suddenly heightened, and he could smell a potential meal everywhere.

Alexander clutched his stomach. His mind seemed to waver slightly, and almost all thoughts went to finding food.

He could smell everyone.

Alexander pinched his nose and trembled slightly as he closed his eyes in horror.

He felt a wolfish instinct kick in, and his brain seemed to scream at him as it forced him forward to eat anything that he could find.

Alexander, with as much willpower as he could muster, ran through the tents and into the forest, and he collapsed to the ground. His fingers grazed the soil as he clenched his fists.

Then everything inside him dissapeared, and..


	4. Realizations

Alexander was sitting in a clearing in the forest. He felt strangely full and quite content. He looked down at his hands, which were covered in—

Blood.

Alexander felt his breath quicken at an alarming pace.

Alexander ran to the nearby river and dumped his hands inside of it, letting the blood wash away. He stared at it as it drifted away, horror filling his heart.

He looked at his reflection and suppressed a panicked scream, seeing more blood on his tunic and around his mouth. He washed his face the best he could, trying to keep himself calm. He took off his coat and vest and tunic (The blood had somehow gone through all those layers) and dumped the bloodstained clothing inside of it, desperately hoping that it would wash away.

Thankfully, after a few frantic scrubs, he was able to clean all of the stains. It looked good as new. He twisted it and hung it to dry on a branch. Alexander scratched his head in frustration, then shivered as a cold, dry wind blew through the trees and at his bare chest. He knelt at the riverside and stared down at his reflection in the water, desperately trying to understand what had happened to him.

He could remember that he had felt himself... Losing control the other night, but.. Not like this. He had still been able to think, though morbid wolf urges had made him a little more cannibalistic.

But losing complete control over himself? While he was not in wolf form?

Alexander pressed his fist into his eyes, willing himself not to let the fear take him over. Small, fractions of memories appeared in his head, and he could see.. Several rabbits.

He was on all fours, like a mindless being. The fractions of the memories of what had happened were almost nonexistent, but they were enough to let him know that he had been able to prevent himself from slaughtering something worse.

He stood up ran his hand over his face, grimacing at the bumps he could feel his teeth causing. Tasting the remnants of what he had just eaten, he gagged and filled his mouth with water, then spat it out.

Out of all the things that could have happened to him while he was being held in captivity, the Redcoats had to experiment on him and turn him into... this? Alexander was not entirely sure when he had realized it, but he knew that it was true.

He was a loose experiment. He was a lowly lab rat.

He was..

A weapon.

That's when he realized the truth.

Of course that's what the Redcoats wanted.

It was a good few minutes until he finally decided to return to the camp. He was grateful the day was windy, so his clothes were able to dry quickly on the walk back. When the camp came into sight, he quickly remembered to pull his tunic and vest and coat back on.

When he got to the camp, John and Lafayette spotted him from a few feet away. They seemed relieved to see him. "Where were you?" They asked as they ran up to him.

Alexander thought quickly, letting the air out of his lungs slowly. "I just... Needed some fresh air." He muttered, pushing past them and trudging back to the clinic with his hands deep inside his pockets.

John and Lafayette glanced at each other with unreadable expressions. Lafayette went forward to talk to him, but John held him back by grasping his shoulder, shaking his head at his friend. Lafayette gave Alexander's retreating back a sad look.


	5. Keep An Eye On Him

George sighed, fiddling with Alexander's quill anxiously.

He heard some thumping sounds at the entrance of the tent, and he turned to see John and Lafayette standing at attention before him.

"At ease," George said, and the two relaxed, clasping their hands behind their backs.

"Your Excellency, I'm sure you remember you asked us to keep an eye on Alexander?" Lafayette began, taking a deep breath.

George nodded.

"Well, sir," John continued, looking worried. "He's been acting a little strangely."

George paused, then asked, "How so?"

The two explained immediately, their words overlapping over each others'. Thankfully, George understood them both with ease.

He paced the space behind his desk with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression contorted into that of worry. "Are you sure he hasn't been acting like this because of him, well, being held in captivity for a month? Without any memory of his time there?"

"Well, he only started acting this way when we told him about that monster," John admitted, seeming upset.

George took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "This could be much more serious than we thought."

"What do you mean?"

George was silent for a moment, twirling the quill in his hands. Then he put it down and said, "If what you say is true, then I'm afraid he might actually know what's going on, and what this monster is."

John and Lafayette paused, staring at him. Then they glanced at each other. John spoke first. "But, sir, why wouldn't he tell us?"

"I don't know." George muttered, his brow furrowing in concern. "But I can feel that there's something he's not telling us."

John shifted uncomfortably, and Lafayette blinked nervously. "What do we do?"

George stared hard at the quill laying on his desk, before finally saying, "Nothing. There's nothing we can do." He looked up at the two, who had fallen silent. He gave them a grim frown, then sighed, "You must continue keeping an eye on him. If anything happens, tell me immediately."

"Yes, Your Excellency." John and Lafayette saluted. They turned to leave the tent. As Lafayette exited, John paused, staring after him. He turned back to the General and asked, "Does.. Does sneaking out of the tent and into the forest, then come running back into camp looking extremely disgruntled about an hour after he left considered something?"

George stared at him. "Yes."

"Well, he.. Did that."

George nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Laurens."

John nodded, his expression anxious as he followed Lafayette out of the tent.

George sat down and stared down at the quill again, sighing loudly through his nose. He closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face, whispering to himself, "Oh, Alexander, what is happening to you?"


	6. Uncontrollable

It was now eleven-fifty in the evening, and Alexander was beginning to become desperate for his friends to leave the clinic.

"Look, I really appreciate the company, but I'm tired." Alexander faked a yawn the best he could, but John shook his head. "That monster could come back. I think it would be much safer—"

"But I'm _tired_, John." Alexander said a little more forcefully. "If you really want to stay up like this, at least do it outside the tent. I cannot sleep with you and Lafayette muttering incessantly amongst yourselves."

That was another reason Alexander felt so irritated. Lafayette and John had been whispering to each other a lot ever since he had run off into the forest, and every time Alexander had tried to join in on the conversation, they'd immediately quiet down, or change the subject and try to look innocent.

But Alexander knew them better than that, and he knew that they knew that he knew them better than that. Yet, no matter how obvious they were, they still refused to tell him.

Alexander took a deep breath and glanced at the ominously ticking clock—eleven-fifty nine.

Alexander stood up and ran outside. Before the other two could follow him, he yelled, "I have to relieve myself!" Which effectively stopped them in their tracks.

Alexander kneeled behind the tent and closed his eyes, terrified of what was going to happen next.

Then, the pain exploded all over him again.

Alexander held his hands over his mouth desperately. Desperately trying to prevent himself from screaming in agony, but when his fingers turned into claws, scraping at his face, he pulled his hand away and cried out.

And that cry turned into a howl.

Alexander keeled forward and onto to the ground weakly, catching himself with his hands. He heard footsteps sound behind him, and he stiffly turned around to see John and Lafayette scrambling out of the tent with their pistols in hand. They spotted him and instinctively pointed them straight at him, and Alexander—

All human thoughts vanished, and was replaced by those of an angry, ferocious wolf. He lunged at them with his teeth bared and claws stretched out.


	7. The Will To Kill His Own

Alexander couldn't remember what on earth had happened.

He blinked rapidly and looked around him, then gasped as he found John and Lafayette pale and bleeding on the ground near him. Lafayette was clutching his leg and trying desperately to reach for the pistol that was so far out of reach and... Utterly demolished. Alexander gasped and recoiled from John, who he was sure he was just about to devour a moment ago, judging from how, when he awoke from the trance, he was gripping his friend's throat so tightly that his claws almost pierced straight through it.

He stared at his claws, which had blood splattered all over it. Alexander shook his head slowly, then took several retreating steps backwards.

When John and Lafayette could only moan weakly in response, Alexander gave a shuddering gasp and dashed back into the woods.

He ran as fast as he possibly could. After a few minutes, he felt his side was screaming in protest, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't. He couldn't—

Alexander stopped in his tracks and stared down at the dark, sprawled out figure laying in front of him.

Alexander stared at it in horror, but after a few minutes his curiosity soon got the better of him, and he slowly crawled forward. When it did not move nor make a sound, Alexander crept close enough to prod it, then leapt back.

Nothing.

Alexander frowned at it and went forward once again. He sniffed the air, and it smelt like.. blood. And not like John or Lafayette's blood, but like.. Someone else's.

Alexander stepped closer and peered down at it. When his vision adjusted, he found himself yelling in shock and scrambling backwards.

It was the doctor. The doctor Alexander had been waiting the whole day for.

Dr. West...

.. Dead.

Alexander stared at Dr. West's pale face and glassy eyes, transfixed, then reached over and gently pulled his eyelids closed. He looked down at his chest, which had four marks of several slashes from a knife.

Alexander shook his head slowly. He knew immediately who had done this. The Redcoats.

_T_hey_ are smart, aren't they? Of course they killed him. He would have found out easily what I've become._

While Alexander pondered over this newfound revelation, an overwhelming sense of vertigo came over him, and—

_He was struggling furiously in the binds that were keeping him tightly tied against the tree. He saw the Redcoat with the thick black mixture come over to him. Another nearby soldier forced Alexander's Jaws open, and the first Redcoat poured all of the bowl's contents down his throat._

_A nauseating feeling immediately exploded within him, and he cried out, his vision blurring and his throat burning. White spots danced across his vision as a voice said, "It's working."_

_"Give him the wolf's blood." Another voice commanded. Alexander felt his shoulder being gripped tightly, and a needle poked straight through his skin and injected him._

_Alexander roared in agony, the wolf's blood immediately interacting with the chemicals. _

_His blood was boiling. He was thrashing about in pain, but the ropes held him. He could feel the Redcoats trying to keep him still, but his body's convulsions refused to stop..._

_Then he broke free of the ropes. All the Redcoats yelled as Alexander collapsed to the ground, writhing painfully. Then his body began to transform, and he screamed, and his scream grew in a crescendo, and the moment it reached its peak, it was a howl. The howl of a wolf. The howl of a werewolf._

_Then the Redcoats caught him in more ropes and smashed the butt of a gun onto his head, and he fell to the ground. The last thing he heard was, "Let them come for him..."_

_"He won't have a choice. The entire army will be dead in no time. Dead or transformed, we will win. He doesn't even have to be transformed for him to spread the disease with his bite."_

Alexander was shot out of his memories as quickly as he was shot in. A high pitched ringing in his ears sounded, and he whimpered and pressed his hands down onto them. His breathing was loud in his ears as he let the air in his lungs in and out rapidly.

Footsteps. Behind him. Alexander glanced quickly behind him to see John and Lafayette, somehow up, following him.

Alexander dashed off. The two stopped suddenly, and Alexander realized that they must have seen the body. He crouched inside a large bush and watched through the leaves as they bent down to prod the body tentatively. Then they cried out as they realized who it was.

"Oh, no.." Lafayette breathed, reaching out to feel for a pulse. He gave a shuddering exhale and sat down. "This cannot be happening." He ran his hand over his face and stared at the peculiar slashes across his chest. "Who would do such a thing?"

John was staring down at the lifeless corpse with a scowl. "The monster.." He breathed.

"What?" Lafayette asked.

"It.. It must have killed him." John finished silently. "That stupid creature killed our only means of medication! He didn't even get to get into one year of his new child's life!"

Alexander suddenly felt extreme guilt overwhelm him. Why? He hadn't killed the man. But John made it sound like it was true, so much that he almost believed him. Alex stared at his friend's face. He had never seen John so angry... And determined. Determined to _kill—_

His own friend.

Alexander slunk farther into the bushes and trembled, his breathing erratic. He needed to run. He needed to get away. But if he moved, they would find him for sure, then that would be the end of it.

"How do you know?" Lafayette questioned, completely oblivious to Alexander's terrified thoughts.

John bent down beside him and indicated at the slash marks. "Don't those look like the monster's claws marks? They're the same size, and the depth matches the length of his claws." Then John gently lifted Dr. West's head up. He nodded at his neck and muttered, "And those are definitely bite marks."

Lafayette let out a slow breath. "We've got a rogue killer on our hands then, don't we?"

"I suppose so," John said darkly, straightening himself and clutching his arm while grimacing.

Lafayette stood up and staggered forward. John caught him and cried out.

"Sorry," Lafayette whispered, getting off of him and steadying himself while holding onto the branch of a nearby tree. "Now, we have to bring the body back to camp.."

"And find Alexander." John finished, bending down and grabbing at Dr. West's legs.

Lafayette nodded. "And find Alexander." He agreed. They lifted the body together and slowly headed back towards camp.

Alexander, still crouched in the bushes, exhaled slowly in relief. Then he thought about everything they had discussed. But there was one thing that stood out.

There were "bite marks"? Alexander hadn't noticed that, but then again, he hadn't had the time to observe that well. Alexander pondered over what horrible things the Redcoats could have done to kill him that way.

Then it dawned on him. The Redcoats had _framed_ him, hadn't they? They wanted to get rid of Dr. West whilst simultaneously framing Alexander himself for a murder he didn't commit! It was all a plot to turn them against him and get him to go feral and kill them all!

Alexander clutched his head and whimpered. He could distantly hear John and Lafayette calling his name. He terribly wanted to run back to them desperately and tell them everything, but he couldn't go to them. Not now. Not like this.


	8. The Search

George entered the doctor's tent, intending to visit Alexander, but instead found John and Lafayette helping each other bandage up some... Wounds?

They froze when they saw him. He saw the both of their eyes flickered towards a nearby cot, then back at him. George narrowed his eyes and turned to look where they had glanced to find a corpse. The corpse of Dr. West.

George's expression hardened. "What happened?" He demanded, stepping inside and staring down at the body.

John tied up the cloth around Lafayette's leg and mumbled, "We were attacked, Your Excellency."

"By what?" George turned to them with concern plastered on his face. They were indeed in bad shape. Laurens' arm was bandaged tightly, but stained a bloody red. Lafayette's leg had a cloth wrapped around his knee, and he was grimacing. They looked at each other, then back at him.

"The monster," They both said. "The wolf-like one that Swift and Conley claimed to have encountered last night."

George stared. "Where.. Where is it now?"

"Hiding in the forest," Lafayette whispered gravely.

George fell silent and looked around the tent. Someone was missing, he noticed. He turned back to the two and, almost too quiet for them to hear, asked, "What of Alexander?"

John and Lafayette grimaced. "We don't know." John let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What do you mean you don't know?" George demanded, his voice rising slightly. John flinched while Lafayette hurriedly explained, "Just a few minutes before the creature came, Alexander went out to relieve himself. When we heard the monster, we ran out. Alex was nowhere to be seen."

George groaned and ran his hand over his face. "We need to find him. I'll go out into the forest myself."

"Not alone!" John protested suddenly, leaping up. Lafayette leaped up as well, then hissed in pain as his leg came into contact with the ground.

"No." George waved a hand. "I can't put you at risk again. And besides, you're injured."

"Sir, please," The both of them said together, sounding a little desperate.

George stared at their pleading faces and sighed. Without a word, he turned to head out of the tent, the two following him quickly as they all walked into the forest.


	9. Body Found, Truth Not

The sun was high in the sky now, and there was the quietest of snores coming from a rather large bush.

George stopped in his tracks and looked around. John and Lafayette collided with him from behind, and George turned to glare at them quickly before turning back to the bush. The three of them crept closer, their hands resting on their pistols.

George pulled out his gun and nodded at the other two. They pulled the bush apart to reveal the inside, and George aimed his pistol right at—

"Alex!" John cried.

Alexander woke with a start. He blinked up at the three of them in momentary bewilderment. Then he saw the gun pointed straight at him and cried out, swearing furiously.

"What the _heck!?_" He yelled, scrambling into a sitting position. George hurriedly put the gun away and gave him an apologetic look, then he asked, "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm _not _alright! You just pointed a gun at me!" He cried. Then he looked around them. He frowned. "Why am I in a bush?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." John held out a hand, and Alex took it. He pulled him to his feet.

As Alexander steadied himself, Lafayette looked him over. "Why did you not come back? And why are you so far from camp? I thought you just went out to relieve yourself."

Alexander went pale slightly. He swallowed, then, with a shaky voice, stammered, "Um, th— the monster— the thing. It saw me and— well, I ran.." Alex went paler still as he stared up at George, who had an unreadable expression on his face. "I— er, I'm sorry I didn't g—go back, I.. I just—"

"Its alright now," George said gently, barely refraining himself from calling him "son". He put his hand on his shoulder instead, and Alexander stiffened slightly, but didn't say anything.

John and Lafayette nodded in agreement. "You got lucky, though," Lafayette said, grimacing. "It.. Killed Dr. West."

Alexander blinked, then went even paler. "It.. Did? How are you sure?"

"Well, we studied the marks it had," Lafayette said, pulling him out of the bush. "It was terrible."

Alexander let out a slow breath. Then his eyes spotted their injuries, and George heard his breath catch in his throat.

"Did.. Did the monster do that, too?" Alexander asked weakly. He looked like he was in incredible pain, but George could not understand why. He narrowed his eyes at him, and Alex glanced at him and trembled.

"Yes," John sighed, picking at the cloth on his forearm. "It attacked us. You're lucky you got away, Alex—that thing is ferocious."

"Ferocious.." Alexander repeated under his breath.

"And utterly dangerous. We need to find a way to catch it so we can kill it before it kills anybody else." George slipped his pistol back in its holster. He looked up to see Alexander staring blankly, his face white as sheet.

Concern washed itself over the General's heart, and he whispered, "Alexander, are you alright?"

Alexander snapped out of it immediately. He looked up at the General and whispered, "Yes, sir."

George stared at him, then nodded uncertainly. They all turned around to head back into camp.

The walk back was rather uneventful, because Alexander was eerily silent. He said nothing as his friends talked and tried to converse with him, with him only shrugging and nodding or shaking his head in response. He did not laugh nor smile. And after a while, they just gave up and fell silent, too.

It pained George's heart to see Alexander like this. He just wished he would tell him what was going on. Perhaps he'd be able to help him.

Alas, Alexander was not his son. George was not his father. Alexander would never let him in the way George wanted him to. This only seemed to deepen the pain, and he pushed the thought away.

Because right now, he had a monster to catch.


	10. Revelations

Alexander needed to _leave_.

After he had disappeared into the woods, George refused to let him out of his sight. He was scared, he could see.

Alex watched with a pained expression as George told all the aides to prepare traps. He also demanded that they keep their weapons in hand, for tonight, they weren't going to sleep. They all had a job to do.

And it was to kill Alexander.

Of course, they still didn't know it was him, but Alexander had no plans whatsoever to tell them of the truth. He was sure that they'd go and kill him if they found out, because why would they put him—The penniless, immigrant orphan—over the safety of the entire camp?

But what George didn't know was that keeping him in his line of vision all night as he, Lafayette, and John all stayed in the General's tent with their pistols in hand, would put the lives of the entire American army at risk.

But Alexander was still too scared to tell them.

Alexander groaned out loud and stood up. "I need to relieve myself," He said, glancing at the clock quickly. He didn't have much time left.

George stood up. "I'll come with you."

"Your Excellency!" Alexander cried, abashed. "I'm just going to be outside!"

"I know that, Alexander, but I need to be there if the monster returns," George sighed, and Alex swore he heard the added whisper of the faint words, "And so I can protect you."

Alexander crossed his arms. "I am not a child, sir."

George gave him a look. "But you're not the one with authority here, either. If I say I'm coming, I'm coming."

Alexander stared at him. The General's expression was utterly serious.

"You know what? Nevermind. I don't have to relieve myself anymore." Alexander sat down and glared at his feet.

George slowly sat down as well. Alex could feel all three of them staring at him, but he refused to look up. He refused to look anywhere except at his feet, so he forced himself to believe that George would let him go on his own in time, so he sat there silently and waited.

Waited.

.. Waited.

But he did not realize that George was actually serious, and that he would _not_ allow him to go on his own.

But then it was too late. The realization was useless as Alexander jerked his head up to see the clock strike twelve.

Alexander swore and stood up. He attempted to rush out of the tent, but it was too late. He collapsed to the ground.

John, Lafayette, and George all stared as Alexander clutched the ground. Then..

He screamed. The three rushed to his side, and Alexander shoved them away with as much strength as he could msuter. Then he yelled again as the transformation began.

"Oh my gosh," John breathed.

Alexander could feel his blood boiling. He clutched at his body in a desperate attempt to stop it, but the pain only heightened further as his claws emerged, and he cut himself. His tail grew, his ears lengthened, and the fur burst free. He howled in agony.

Alexander curled himself up and closed his eyes as the transformation finished itself. He refused to look at his friends or the General. He refused to smell them. He refused to let them go near him. He clutched his ears and forced them down so he would not hear them. He growled, "Go! Run! Kill me! Do anything you want! I'm here!"

He could hear muffled words trying to get to him, but he only shoved his his ears down onto his head harder.

Then he could feel gentle hands taking his claws away from his said ears. Alex weakly whispered, "P—please, leave me alone.."

Then someone was whispering, "Alexander, it's okay."

Alex looked up with apprehension. He saw George staring down at him. Not with anger or fear, nothing like that. But with..

.. Pity and mercy. Alexander shook his head. "No, it's not okay." He pulled his claws out of George's hands. "I hurt John and Lafayette. I disobeyed your orders. I'm a _monster_, sir, everyone said so."

John and Lafayette suddenly looked incredibly guilty. "We didn't mean that—" John whispered, reaching out to put his hand on his shoulder.

Alex shook his head and moved farther away. "Don't touch me. Of course you meant that." Alexander could feel the tears pressing at the back of his eyes. He felt so angry and hurt. He didn't want them to pretend to care about him anymore. If they hated the monster, then they hated him. He shouldn't have allowed himself to believe otherwise.

John looked pained. "Please, Alexander. I'm sorry."

"Me, too." Lafayette whispered, his eyes wet. "We didn't know, Alex, please. We didn't know you were the one. We would never had talked about you that way."

Alexander dragged himself farther backwards and shook his head. "I'm sorry," He whispered. "But I can't stay here anymore."

And, against all instincts, he rushed out.

Alexander weaved around the tents, avoiding the traps swiftly and leaping over the others. He dashed straight into the forest and did not stop.

The rain decided to fall then. Alexander desperately tried not to cry, but he could feel warm water sliding down his face. He knew it was not the rain.

He could hear footsteps behind him. He could hear yells of, "Alexander! Wait!" And labored breathing. Alex roared, "No! Go away!" And he made a sharp turn. He continued to run ahead as he heard the others stumble on the wet and rocky ground.

Alexander could feel the heavy jolt of pressure every time he pushed against the ground to run forward, but that heaviness did not feel as heavy as his heart. He had allowed himself to believe he could have friends. He had allowed himself to believe he could have a family. He had came here to help people, but only ended up hurting and scaring them.

He might as well have killed Dr. West.

He stopped when he could go no further. The pain in his limbs burned, but he didn't care. He deserved it.

Alexander stared at his claws and balled them into fists. Why did he think he was worthy of being the General's right hand man? Why did he think he was worthy of his friends' friendship? Why did he think he was worthy of his wife's love? He was nothing.

_Not nothing,_ Alexander bitterly reminded himself. _Not anymore._

Alex felt a small, secluded part of him hope that John, Lafayette, and the General would come and find him, and maybe bring him back. Maybe they were still friends. Maybe him being a monster wouldn't change things.

Alexander shook his head furiously and put his head in his hands. Who was he kidding? Of course they had to kill him now.

Alexander opened his eyes and scanned the cave he was now hiding in. This wouldn't be a bad place to spend the rest of his days. He could feed off rabbits and other animals that came his way. He wouldn't be helping the world, but at least he was protecting it.

As Alexander stared aimlessly at the falling rain that almost seemed like a waterfall from the inside of the cave, he envisioned his life as a lowly beast. He did not notice the three figures watching him. Alexander angrily wiped his eyes to get rid of the tears that had formed again and swallowed the hard lump in his throat.

Then they were inside the cave. Alexander yelled and scrambled backwards.

"Alexander, please!" John cried, reaching out quickly and grabbing Alexander's furry wrist.

Alexander yanked it away. "Go away. You know I can't be around you guys anymore."

"But we can help you," Lafayette begged him.

"No one can help me," Alexander hissed at them. "_No one._ So go away, before I lose control and hurt you again. You may not want me to be your friend anymore, but I still don't want to kill you."

Ignoring how stupid and childish he sounded, he turned around to face the barren wall of the cave, crossing his arms firmly across his chest as he let the air in his lungs out slowly. His eyes burned yet again.

He heard the heavy footsteps of the General come up behind him. He was silent except for his tired breathing. Then he whispered, "Alexander,"

"Go. Away," Alexander growled. Didn't he understand how dangerous he was?

There was more silence behind him. He could hear the rain, the tired breathing of George, and the uneasy fidgeting of the other two. Alexander could also hear the blood rushing in his ears, his own frustrated breathing, his heart beating so quickly..

Then the General's hand was on his shoulder. Alexander stiffened and reached up to shove it away, but George just gripped it tighter and sighed, "Alexander.."

Alex felt himself being turned around. He resisted for a few moments, then finally consented angrily as he let himself come face to face with him. He stared up into the General's eyes. His heartbroken eyes.

"Alex, even if we had originally wanted to kill the supposed monster—" Alex flinched. George speedily. continued, "—you must understand. With the said monster being you and not just a random beast, it changes things." He paused, then took a deep breath. "We.. Probably cannot reverse this, but perhaps it doesn't have to be thought of as a curse."

Alexander stared at his solemn face and desperately blinked away his tears. George continued,

"Not everything has to be bad, Alexander. You can still help us in the war. You can help us win. Your genius and words and marksmanship are too valuable to waste. And I.. I can't bare to lose you again." George swallowed. "We don't hate you because of this, Alexander. Just please, come back with us."

Alexander looked down at his feet and steadied his breathing for a moment. Then he looked up at John and Lafayette, who's eyes were glistening. Alex swallowed and looked up at George and breathed, "I.. I'm valuable?" He faltered weakly.

"Yes, Alexander," George said, tears running down his face now. "Valuable for the war. Valuable to your wife, your future child, your friends.. And me."

Alexander trembled, and tears streamed down his cheeks. Then he did something that he never thought he would ever do.

He embraced the General. George hugged him back tightly, the both of them crying now. John and Lafayette slowly came closer, and Alex, in spite of himself, laughed and pulled them into the embrace.

They were all crying now. Alexander had never seen John or Lafayette shed such tears. But he especially had never seen George himself come even _close_ to it. This was a strange phenomenon Alex had never known was possible.

Finally, after a good few minutes, they all pulled away. Alexander sighed and allowed a small smile to break through. "So, my friends,—" He smiled wider as his friends nodded vigorously. "—what do we do now?"

George gave him another smile in return. "If it's alright with you, maybe you can explain what really has been happening ever since you were rescued?"

Alexander ran the past two days in his head and nodded slowly. "I.. I Think I can do that."

"Alright, then," The General said, sitting down on the ground. The others following suit—A little eagerly, if truth be told.

After Alexander finished telling his thrilling little tale of escapades and torture in a very eloquent and appealing way, they were all in a state of minor shock and relief.

"I'm so sorry for jumping to conclusions about Dr. West." John flushed, embarrassed.

"You didn't know, John," Alexander cut him off gently. "It's not your fault."

"I can't believe those Redcoats did that to you, though!" Lafayette suddenly exclaimed, furious. Alexander only could give him sad smile in response.

"So, are those really the only memories you have of your time under the captivity of those—" Then George called the Redcoats a very rude name, to the chuckles of the other three.

"Yes," Alexander finally replied. He stared down at his clawed fingers and sighed heavily. George gave him a pityous look. "We will do our best to find a way for their plans to backfire." He promised him solemnly

Alexander smiled at him. It was extremely comforting to know that the General.. Actually cared for him the way he did. And the same went for his friends. Alex smiled at them and opened his mouth to speak again, when his skull—no, his _brain_—suddenly felt like it was being cracked open. He screamed, and—


	11. Uncontrollable - Reprise

George gasped as Alexander suddenly cried out. Then the boy fell to the ground, writhing weakly.

"ALEXANDER!" The three of them screamed. George and the other two rushed to his side. The General could feel his heart pounding furiously, trying to escape his own chest. He grabbed Alexander's shoulders and attempted to pull him to his feet, but the boy just whimpered in response, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He was mumbling incoherently.

"Alexander! Alexander, wake up!" George yelled, shaking him violently. Alexander's head only lolled back in response.

"What's happening?!" Lafayette cried, clutching his hair.

"I don't know," George whispered, putting his hand under Alexander's neck and lifting him up. Alexander's eyes were half-closed. He could only see the whites of them.

Then Alexander's eyes suddenly snapped open. His eyes... They had no sign of human intelligence behind them whatsoever. The bright blue in his eyes was suddenly a dull grey. George dropped him as a low growl emanated from his mouth.

"Alexander.." George whispered, his face contorted into pain as he instinctively grabbed his pistol.

John stared at his best friend and swallowed. "Alex, it's us. Please remember."

Alexander didn't seem to understand. He simply growled at them, prowling closer slowly, saliva dripping down his teeth. Lafayette whimpered audibly and held up his hands. "Alexander, please. Please come back to us," He begged weakly.

Something in Alex's eyes flashed. But then he blinked and it was gone. He growled again, louder this time as he bared his unnaturally elongated teeth. George looked at the two aides beside him, who were taking several fearful steps backwards. George took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and—

He put the pistol down. Alexander merely tilted his head in response. Then George lowered himself to the ground, onto his knees.

The other two stared at him, then glanced at each other before mimicking him. Alexander's ears twitched. He came closer.

George swallowed, then said in a tense whisper, "Alexander, it's us. Please remember. You are not a wolf, Alexander, you are our friend."

Alexander only licked his lips over his teeth in response, as if already contemplating his next meal. George felt Lafayette and John stiffen beside him, and the General hurriedly continued, "Alexander, please, come back to us.

Alexander came ever closer. Then he bent down, ready to pounce onto them. George swallowed and cried, "Son, please!"

Alexander froze. He stared at him, then blinked rapidly. His pupils, which had been in strange, animal like slits, expanded. The blue-ness in his eyes returned, and with it, the human intelligence. Alexander stared at the three of them—Who were still on their knees, and swearing profusely, despite the cold weather— silently for a moment. He sat down, his breathing shallow.

George let out a shuddering laugh of relief. "Alexander." He smiled. "You're back."

Alexander stared at him again. Then he smiled. "Thank you."

John and Lafayette laughed aloud and leapt towards him, wrapping him in another embrace. Alexander just laughed in response and playfully punched them away from him.

George ran his hand over his face and exhaled slowly. He wondered if Alexander had had yet another memory, but Alex didn't seem to have anything to tell them. Was he hiding it again?

George turned to the three, who were grinning and laughing together. He sighed heavily. _I hope not_, he thought. Then out loud, he announced, "I think it's about time we went back."

Alexander looked up at him, a little bit nervously. Then he nodded in determination. He and the others stood up and followed him out of the cave, then, ignoring the rain pelting down onto their backs, they hurried back into camp.


	12. Tomorrow There'll Be More Of Us

_Should I tell him?_

_No! I cannot burden him with any more problems besides the ones he already has._

_But he deserves to know!_

This was the internal conflict Alexander was having as he wrote a letter to Congress (No longer in wolf form, mind you, since it was now the next day's afternoon). Now that the General knew what was going on, he had finally allowed him to return to work in peace (Whilst keeping him well fed, thankfully, so as to prevent what happened the other day from happening again). Lafayette and George were behind him, bending over a table and talking in hushed voices about the best battle tactics they could use for the next battle, or perhaps ambush.

Heading back into his thoughts, Alexander thought about how—before his mind was transformed into that of a wolf—he had gone limp while simultaneously trembling unnaturally. The others had told him about it in vivid detail.

Well, Alexander knew what had actually happened. Another memory was released back to him.

And.. It had come with some quite unpleasant revelations.

Alexander thought he ought to be more worried, or scared... But somehow, he didn't. He was regretful, yes, but it didn't sound half as bad as he had initially thought when he pondered it over before going to bed the other night, after they had all snuck back into camp.

"Alexander," The gentle voice of the General said as he placed his hand on his secretary's shoulder. Alex looked up quickly, snapped out of his musings.

"Yes, sir?"

George let out a breath slowly. "I.. Have an idea on how to defeat the British. Or at least, greatly lessen their numbers."

Alexander stood up eagerly and asked, "What is it?" As he followed the General to the table.

George fidgeted with the quill in his hands silently for a moment. He glanced at Lafayette, who was watching them with an unreadable expression. The Frenchman nodded at George, who took a deep breath and, a little forcefully, asked, "Can it be passed on?"

Alexander blinked. "What?"

George grimaced. "Your.. Condition. Can it be spread to other people? Like the werewolf does?"

Alex stared at the General, his mind working strangely slowly to comprehend what he meant.

Then he got it. Alexander's eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously. "No, no, no, I can't do that."

"You can't, or don't want to?"

Alexander glared at him. "I don't want to! I don't know whether it is possible or not, but I can't just.. I.."

Alexander stared at the General's very serious and desperate face. He swallowed weakly. "I.. "

The General shushed him then. "Alexander, listen to me."

Alex shook his head and looked away. George's voice, much sharper now, said, "Alexander, look at me."

Reluctantly, Alex obeyed.

"Everyday, soldiers are dying as we continue this fight against the British," He began slowly. "Men with family. Men with friends. We _need_ to do something more if we're going to win this."

Alex swallowed, then stared up into George's eyes as he continued, "I promised you that we would find a way for those Redcoat's plan to backfire._This_ is the way."

Alexander clenched his fists and looked down at his feet. The word, "Please," Reached his ears again, and he flinched.

Alex really wasn't the superstitious type, but the words "Destiny" and "Fate" popped into his head as he thought this all through. Maybe.. Maybe this was how it was supposed to happen.

Something in Alex's stomach churned. _All those people who'll never see their fathers, or brothers, or husbands ever again..._

He looked up at the General and, with a heavy heart, finally said, "I'll do it."

George exhaled slowly, and a strained smile forced its way onto his face. "Thank you."

Alexander smiled back, but when the General turned away to resume his planning with Lafayette, his face immediately changed back to his expression of dread and regret.


	13. Nobly Expendable

That night, at Eleven o'clock, the General gathered all of his aides and had them stand in front of the forest. They all looked into it warily.

Then George came forward, and he called their attention to him.

"I'm sure that you all have heard of the so called monster that has been roaming this place?" He began, pacing in front of them all. Lafayette, John, and Alexander were across from the other aides. Alexander looked incredibly nervous, and wave of guilt washed over George, but he ignored it as all the aides confirmed yes.

"Well.. We found him."

The aides gasped and looked at each other. George inhaled and glanced at Alexander, who nodded solemnly. He stepped forward, and George nodded at him. "Here he is."

The aides blinked simultaneously, then stared at him. There was complete silence for a few moments

"So, you're saying that Alexander.. Is the monster we were all trying so desperately to catch?" A man named Tench Tilghman asked slowly.

George and Alexander nodded simultaneously.

Another of the aides tilted his head and observed him. "He doesn't look like it. Wasn't it hairy, with claws and stuff?"

"Yes," George said. "But that only happens at night."

"What, like a werewolf?" Another aide, named Benjamin Tallmadge, joked. Then when he noticed their serious expressions, frowned. "Wait. Really like a werewolf?"

"Yes." This time, those words had come from Alexander himself. "And if you want proof, look at this." He opened his mouth and indicated inside of it.

The aides looked at each other. Finally, the aide named John Andre came forward and peered inside. His eyes widened, and he gasped, "Holy—its true."

The other aides stared at him. Then they all slowly came forward to look inside. Some gasped, while others cried, "Incredible!", and Alexander couldn't help but grin as they did this.

But then they all stopped. They turned to stare at the General in suspicion. Benjamin slowly asked, "Why are you telling us this?"

George sighed. "We.. Have a plan on how we can greatly diminish the numbers of the opposing army."

Then the aides immediately understood. There was an uproar of protest.

"What?! You want us to turn into a werewolf, too?!"

"I don't want to turn into a monster!"

"Why the heck do we have to be the ones to do it?!"

"Why can't the soldiers be the ones?"

George raised his hand swiftly, his face stern. The aides fell silent.

"Listen to me. This plan is an incredibly risky one. I initially planned to get our soldiers and spies for this mission, but..." He swallowed, then continued, ".. If we don't get to exterminate the entire army, or the mission fails, then we'll need soldiers to fight the rest of them off. So.." He trailed off there, letting the aides figure out what he meant.

All the aides fell completely silent. They stared at each other, then at Alex, then at the General.

Everyone was completely silent as the truth weighed itself upon them. The aides now looked incredibly nervous, but after a moment, a determined looked came over them, and Andre sighed. After looking to the others for confirmation, he nodded and said, "Alright. We'll do it."

George's relief was very evident on his face.

But then Alexander stepped forward. His expression was unreadable as he turned to face the General. "May I.. Speak to them first?"

"Of course."

".. Alone?" Alex finished, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding his gaze.

George stared at him. Trying his best to hide his suspicion, he nodded slowly. He turned to go back inside his tent while simultaneously glancing back to see Alexander, his shoulders slumped as he spoke to them all in a very low voice. All the aides' expressions were grave, and John put a trembling hand on Alexander's shoulder.

That was the last thing George saw before his vision was blocked out by the tent flap closing.


	14. The First Transformation - Reprise

Alexander let out a slow breath while Lafayette ran back to the tent to call back the General. Andre nodded at Alex and said in a very consoling voice, "It's okay, Alexander. Remember, this is our choice, not yours."

Alex nodded. The General came up beside him as John announced, "We're ready."

"Good." George said, sounding like he was trying to hide his anxiousness. Alexander was sure he wanted to ask what he told the others, but already knew that he wouldn't tell him.

_Well, he'll find out soon enough_. Alexander thought bitterly.

Just then, thundering hooves sounded nearby. Alex and everyone else turned to see two men riding towards them quickly. They dismounted their horses and tied them to a nearby tree, then the men ran forward. Aaron Burr, one of newcomers, panted, "We came as soon as we heard," He said, flashing Alexander a comforting smile. Alex tried to return the favor, but it felt oddly strained.

Then Hercules Mulligan went up to him. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Alexander didn't want to lie, but he still forced himself to reply, "I think so," As he shrugged off his hand. He felt regret and sadness wash over him, and his stomach churned as he realized that he wasn't able to tell Hercules and Aaron the truth of the matter yet, but now, there was no time.

He looked at the General, who nodded at him encouragingly. Alexander took a deep breath and walked over to John, who offered him his exposed arm. His sleeve was already rolled up as he smirked. "Just try not to make it too bloody, alright?" He chuckled.

Alexander stared at his friend's forearm, then at his face. He let a small smile break through as he whispered, "Thank you for everything, John. You're the best friend a guy could ever have."

John nodded in response, swallowing as his eyes suddenly glistened. "You too, Alexander. I don't think I could've made it without you—you're the closest friend I've got."

Alexander felt his eyes water. He wiped them on his sleeve quickly. John nodded at him and lifted his forearm higher.

Alexander, steering himself, squeezed his eyes shut. He bared his teeth and, with as much willpower as he could muster, bit down on his friend's arm. John cried out pain, and Alex flinched as he pulled away.

When he opened his eyes, he found John's arm bleeding profusely. Then, right before their eyes, the wound turned a foul, black color. John hissed in pain and kneeled onto the ground. Alex gave a shuddering gasp and kneeled beside him. "I'm so sorry.."

"Its fine." John whispered, wincing in pain. "Just go and finish the job."

Alexander swallowed and nodded. He rushed off to the other aides who were waiting and continued to bite each one of them. His stomach churned everytime he heard their pain-filled shrieks, but he forced himself to continue with what he had to do.

Finally, it was finished. Alexander spat out the blood from his mouth and wiped at it. Panting heavily, he nodded at the General, who gave him a comforting smile that was still tinged with anxiety.

Then Lafayette, Hercules and Aaron came forward, obviously expecting themselves to be next. George held up his hand and shook his head. "No," He said. "I can't let you transform."

"What? Why not?" Lafayette demanded.

"Because, as I have said, I need you three for something else. Something that requires you to not be under the spell of the werewolf."

"With all due respect, what on earth could be more important than helping our friends, sir?" Aaron said politely while simultaneously sounding extremely upset.

George sighed through his nose. "I need Mulligan to scout ahead so you can avoid being spotted. I need Burr so that he can keep an eye out during the assault with a pistol ready to fire, and I need Lafayette to lead the entire assault." He gave the three a look, and they fell silent. They turned to stare at Alexander, who nodded. "It's better this way," He said, shrugging weakly.

Lafayette and Hercules looked quite speechless. Aaron, however, stepped forward and placed his hand on Alex's shoulder. "We're with you throughout it all."

Alexander smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you."

Then the moon burst through the clouds. It was a full moon. All of the aides stared up at it as the light shone down on them all. Their eyes glowed as they felt the moon giving them strength.

"It's almost time." Alexander whispered, bracing himself.

The aides stared at the moon, waiting warily for the clock to strike twelve.

They didn't have to wait long.

It was quite sudden, but not unexpected. Alexander felt the pain ripping at him and his blood boiling furiously once again. Through his own shouting, he could hear the other aides screaming and roaring in pain. He could see John clawing at the ground. He could hear Aaron, Hercules, and Lafayette gasping.

His heart was roaring in his ears, and his breathing was so loud. Somehow, the full moon made this the most painful transformation he had ever felt. He felt his teeth growing in size. That never happened before.

When the transformation was just about done, the aides simultaneously howled in agony at the moon. The howl echoed throughout the camp and the forest.

Then all was silent. Several aides collapsed to the ground entirely. Alexander himself stayed on his knees, but John collapsed beside him and whimpered.

"John," Alex panted weakly, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into a sitting position.

It took a few minutes, but all the aides recovered, and they all began to observe themselves with morbid interest.

"I.. Wow." John breathed, looking himself over. "This is.. I don't even know _what_ to feel about this."

Alexander looked at him. John looked quite similar to him, except for his fur color, which was a dark brown, unlike Alexander's auburn. Alex eyed the ears sticking out of his friend's head, then his former hands, which were now deadly-looking claws.

Alexander let out a shuddering breath. John put his clawed hand on his shoulder and grinned at him. "Look, I'd really rather it be this way than having to watch you suffer for what those Redcoats did to you alone. We can do this."

Alex nodded. The General handed Aaron a loaded gun, who thanked him sincerely.

The spy, soldier, French General, and all the former-aides-now-werewolves headed out towards the forest. They all gave one last glance back towards George, who nodded at them. They saluted him, then turned and ran into the forest. They never caught their General's salute in return.


	15. Our Glory

They were right outside the enemy camp.

Alexander and his fellow werewolves were crouching, concealed in some bushes, while Hercules scoured the camp to see if there was anyone awake. Aaron was sitting on a rock high above the ground, hidden in some trees with his pistol at the ready. Lafayette was waiting for Hercules with a trained eye as he stared through the leaves of the bushes.

The run there had been... Quite difficult. Not because of other Redcoats, no—because the newly transformed werewolves were all getting a little distracted. What, with all the smells of the forest, and the rabbits and squirrels running about, it wasn't really surprising. At least, it wasn't in Alexander's opinion.

Alexander tried to count the times John _specifically_ had suddenly gone stock-still and run off to chase a poor, hapless creature, and Lafayette would have to call him back until he returned. When he did, he'd look very embarrassed indeed.

Heck, if John was hard to count, then Alexander couldn't even recall the amount of times all of the aides put together had gotten distracted. He himself had even gone running once or twice.

But that didn't matter now. They were here, and they had a job to do.

The silent crunching of leaves soon made its way to the waiting group's ears, then stopped. Lafayette mimicked the sound of a squirell. The chirp of a bird answered in reply, and the aides and Lafayette all exhaled in relief as they all came out of their hiding place. Hercules nodded at them and whispered, "The camp is all yours. I just had to take out the guards."

Lafayette nodded. "Good job, Herc," He said. He turned to Alexander and the other aides and gave them an encouraging look. "You guys ready?"

They nodded in response.

"Good. Now remember: Be as silent as possible. Just slit their throats, don't bite them. If anyone wakes up, you'll all surely create an uproar, so be stealthy, as well."

"No pressure," John whispered sarcastically.

Lafayette either didn't hear him or ignored him. Probably the latter. He swallowed and added, "Remember, we can't waste this shot. It's the only one we've got, so we need to be as careful as possible." He paused, then sighed. "America is counting on you."

The werewolves glanced at each other anxiously, then nodded. They all quickly exchanged salutes..

.. Then they were off.

Alexander and John silently prowled into the first tent they saw. There were three men sleeping soundly within it. One of them was snoring. John reached out with his clawed finger and reached over to the snoring man, swiftly slitting his throat.

The snoring immediately stopped. Alexander nodded and went to the other man, slitting his throat as well and he grimaced at the blood on his hands and at the blood spilling out of his neck. John slit the third man's throat quickly, and they rushed out.

Benjamin and Andre flew past them as they went on to another tent. Benjamin still had some blood on his claws, but neither of them seemed to care as they dashed into the next tent.

John and Alexander crawled into another tent, then immediately ducked out when they found the soldiers in it already dead. They went instead into the neighboring tent, which had four sleeping men.

Alexander reached out to kill the nearest man, but the sleeping man suddenly snorted and fidgeted restlessly. Alexander and John shrunk back. The man's fidgeting stopped, and he muttered, "I don't wanna eat it.." Then he turned around and resumed his snoring. Alexander and John looked at each other and snickered silently.

All was going well. Soldiers were all dying silently, with no one waking up. It looked like the plan was going to succeed.

That is, it seemed that way until a man started yelling. Alexander and John froze when they heard Andre yelling at Benjamin, "Go! Go!" And a loud gunshot.

The other tents came to life. Alexander and John rushed out of the way when the men who were sleeping in the tents they were standing in front of dashed out to see what the commotion was all about.

John collided with someone suddenly. John and Alexander looked up to see a Redcoat soldier blinking, bleary-eyed as he tried to make out what the creatures crouching near the ground in front of him were. Alexander slashed his claws at his chest and killed him, then dove back into the crowd. They weaved through the chaos of the running aides and Redcoats, either avoiding them or killing the ones they came near to.

Alexander and John ran into the tent the first gunshot came from to see Andre on the ground, staring blankly. Near him was a dead Redcoat with a gun hanging from his arm limply. Alexander stared in shock at Andre, who did not make a sound, nor move.

Another gunshot sounded behind them. John and Alexander jumped as a Redcoat fell inside the tent, his chest bleeding and his face pale. Alexander and John leaped over him and tackled the first group of Redcoats they found, who were standing right outside.

The other werewolves were running and killing at random now, too. Alexander spotted several swiping at a Redcoat's neck, or otherwise leaping over their heads. He and John killed the men they had tackled and ducked as another bullet from Aaron soared through the air, striking another Redcoat in the head.

Then a loud howl sounded, and another werewolf fell to the ground. His stomach had been stabbed with a knife.

Alexander cannoned into one man's legs, and John slashed at his throat as he fell. There was yelling as Redcoats died, howls as the aides did. There were bullets whistling through the air, knives/claws slashing through flesh, leaps and the crunching of leaves and sticks. Stones being kicked about. In this maze of noise and chaos, Alexander took a few moments to notice the gunshot and howl of pain right behind him.

Alexander stopped short and turned to see one of the werewolves collapse behind him. The werewolf, who– no, it couldn't be—

But it was John, alright. Alexander felt a whine escape his mouth as he rushed to his friend's side. His friend's abdomen was bleeding furiously as John weakly clutched at it. He stared up into Alexander's eyes. There were tears running down Alexander's cheeks as he grabbed his arm and whispered, "No, you can't die, John. Stay with me."

Alexander pulled him free from the crowd and dragged him into an empty tent, where other wounded werewolves were hiding. He begged his best friend, "Stay alive, for me. I'll be right back."

He ran back out of the tent and killed as much Redcoats that he could. It was all a blur when he tried to recall it. All he knew was that there was blood, more injuries, more deaths. His breathing was loud and erratic in his ears as he clawed at anyone who dared go near him, or near his fellow aides.

More gunshots. More blood. Alexander could barely keep his mind in its human form anymore, but he kept going. America needed him. George needed him. His friends needed him. His family needed him.

And he needed himself to make this fight worth it.

Alexander couldn't recall anymore how long the battle had been, but quite suddenly, it all just.. Stopped. Some werewolves who had survived, unscathed, panted heavily as they all stared at the pools of blood and bodies scattered across the camp.

It took a few moments for Alexander's muddled brain to realize the truth, but then it dawned on him.

They won. Their mission had succeeded.

There were deafening cheers of triumph as all the werewolves whooped in celebration. They grinned with sudden euphoria and embraced each other. They could even hear Lafayette, Hercules, and Aaron yelling and whooping up in the distance.

But the celebrations were short lived when they remembered, and they all ran towards the tent where all of the injured aides were still hiding.

Alexander dashed to John's side. He was incredibly pale, but grinning triumphantly. "We won, Alexander." He whispered, reached up to clap Alex's hand against his own. They clutched each other's hands tightly as Alex grinned back, hot tears streaming down his face as he nodded vigorously. "Yes, we did, John. We won."

John smiled weakly. Then he coughed violently, blood coming out of his mouth. He spat it onto the ground and grimaced. Alexander felt his heart quicken rapidly, and he whispered, "No, John, stay with me. Don't die, please—"

"It's alright, Alexander." John cut him off gently. He was smiling again. "We won. That's all that matters. Now I know I'm not dying in vain."

Alexander clutched his best friend's hand tighter. The tears were streaming out faster, and in larger amounts now, so much that it blurred his vision. "Please don't leave me, John. I can't bear losing someone else. Please."

John chuckled, his voice scratchy and hoarse. "You'll manage. Besides, I'm sure we'll meet again." He grimaced and weakly looked him in the eye.

"I'll see you on the other side."

Alexander stared at him. He didn't want to say it—Because if he did, then it would really mean that this _is_ goodbye. Alexander _hated_ goodbyes, but somehow, he managed to choke out, "'Til we meet again, my friend."

John smiled wider and nodded. "'Til we meet again."

He looked out of the open flap of the tent, where the sun was beginning to rise. He exhaled slowly, his eyes glistening brightly, and his cheeks flushing as it shone down on them both.

He didn't take a breath in again.

Alexander stared at his friend's lifeless form in shock. Disbelief overwhelmed him, and he shook his head wildly. "No, John, please—! John!" He shook his body, refusing to let go.

John's hand gripping his own slipped out and hit the ground. Alexander stared at it and, slowly, he covered his mouth as the tears continued to profusely run down his face. He shook his head. "No... "

There were footsteps behind him. Alexander didn't have the will power to turn around, but he already knew who it was.

There were shuddering gasps as Hercules, Aaron, and Lafayette scanned the tent. Some aides were whimpering weakly, while others had already died. Alexander trembled as he looked around at the other dead men, a strange numbness overcoming him.

"Oh my gosh.." Alexander heard Aaron breathe, his words sounding almost as if it was from far away. Then he heard the three of them come closer and bend down beside him.

Alexander was grateful for the numb feeling now, because his friend's shocked cries would probably have stabbed him in the heart, killing him. He could hear them sobbing, and he stared down again at John's lifeless face, still staring out into the sky. He could feel Aaron embracing him, followed by Hercules and Lafayette. An aching began to form in his chest, and another sob escaped Alex's lips as he turned around and buried his face into their chests.


	16. They'll Tell The Story Of Tonight

George came out of his tent once again and stared out into the forest where his aides had all disappeared. There was still no one there, and the sun was already beginning to rise.

He stepped out of the tent. The morning air hit him, and he breathed it in deeply, relishing its sweetness. When he felt strengthened enough, he turned and walked briskly for the clinic.

He shivered in the cold, dry wind. He was beginning to become worried. What if they had lost? What if they were all dead? What if he just sent his men straight into a massacre, but this time failed to even witness their deaths?

The shame began to rise within him, but he shook his head and tried his best to keep his faith strong.

When he arrived at the clinic, he found it was still empty. He shuddered and sat down on the ground in front of it. He ran his hand over his face and sighed.

When he let his hand drop, however, he stopped.

There they were. His men, trudging weakly through the forest and back into camp. George would have celebrated if he hadn't also spotted several men being carried. He couldn't tell if they're were wounded, or...

As they came closer, George lifted the tent flap and tied it so it would stay open. He ran forward towards them all and helped them carry the wounded into the tent. He saw dead bodies, as well, and he felt a sob lodge into the back of his throat.

Then he spotted Alexander, looking so sad and.. Resigned. Beside him was his friends, walking silently with him. They were all carrying another body, who, upon closer observation, found was none other than John Laurens...

Dead.

George helped the other aides carry the wounded into the tent and the dead onto the ground outside it. When that was done, he hurried to Alexander, who was sitting beside his friends and John's dead body. He was staring overhead at the sun rising over the trees while Lafayette whispered something to the other two, who looked incredibly distraught at what he was saying.

"You should have told us sooner," Hercules chastised weakly, wiping at his eyes.

"Told you what?" George asked, coming closer.

They didn't even seem surprised at his sudden appearance. Aaron simply swallowed and stared hard at the ground. Lafayette put his hand on Alexander's shoulder, and Hercules looked up at the General with tears in his eyes.

George watched their reactions closely. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the fact that a bunch of his men had died during the battle. He knelt down in front of Alexander. "Are you okay?" He asked quietly.

Alex tore his eyes away from the rising sun and faced him. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to hide his tears. "I think I will be, sir." He stared down at his hands, then back up at him. A tear slipped out of his eye and down his cheek, and George couldn't help but reach up and wipe it away.

Alexander smiled gratefully and swallowed. "I think It's time that I told you," He said, looking up at the rising sun again.

"Told me what?" George asked gently.

Alexander looked at his friends, who all nodded at him to continue. Alex smiled at them and said, in a quiet voice, "Before I attacked you the other night, I had another memory returned to me." He paused, tugging at a weed in the ground with his claws, which were still tinged with a dark red stain. "I.. Learned something very important when I saw it."

He faltered, his voice cracking. George put his hand on his shoulder and urged him gently, saying, "What is it?"

Alexander wiped his arm across his nose and let out a slow breath. "Well.. Let's just say that.. I don't think my son will ever get to know his father."

George blinked, then his lips turned downwards in a frown. "What do you mean? Of course he will, why would you—"

"No, you don't understand." He took a deep breath. "I'm.. No longer going to be human. Not even half-human. I..."

George saw his breath catch in his throat. Hercules put a hand on his shoulder, and Alex reached up to pat it gratefully. He swallowed once again, then finished, "I'm changing as we speak. As the sun rises, my body and mind will become less and less human. I'm.. I'm turning into a wolf, sir. A real one, and I can't stop it."

George felt the entire world stop. "What?" He gasped weakly. "What do you mean?"

Alexander wiped his eyes and whispered, "All of us werewolves... We're.. We're turning into true wolves. There's nothing else to explain. I'm not going to become a full human ever again. The Redcoats.. They didn't realize what they'd done to me until it was too late." He chuckled half-heartedly. "Unsurprisingly, they didn't really care."

George shook his head slowly, "No, Alexander, that can't be true. We'll find a way to cure you and the others—"

"There's no time." Alexander cut him off. He grinned at him. "But, thank you, sir, for everything." Tears began to run down his face. "I couldn't have made it this far without you." Then he laughed and looked at his friends. "And you too."

The sun was rising higher now. Aaron, Hercules, and Lafayette all stared at it with tears running down their cheeks.

George turned back to Alex, who was looking down at John's body one last time. "Sir," Alex suddenly said with a choked up voice, looking up again. "Promise me something."

"Anything, Alex," George replied, grabbing his hand without thinking.

Alexander stared at it. "Promise me you'll take care of my family. Tell my son about me. Tell my wife about what I did today, and.. Tell them that I love them."

George swallowed. Tears were forming in his own eyes, now. He nodded firmly, promising, "I will."

Alexander smiled in gratitude. He pulled his hands out of George's and turned to hug Lafayette. "Give your family my regards," He said, And Lafayette nodded. Shaking with sobs, Lafayette pulled Alexander closer for a quick kiss on the cheek, and Alex smiled.

Then Alex turned to embrace Hercules, saying, "Herc, thank you so much for taking care of me. Thank your family for me, will you?" And Hercules nodded solemnly. "I will."

Then Alexander turned to Aaron. He wrapped his arms around him tightly, and Aaron embraced him back. "Aaron, I'm sorry for.. Being a little rude to you. You're a good friend." And Aaron chuckled. "No. I'm sorry. I should have been nicer to you as well."

"You were fine." Alex chuckled, pulling away.

Then he turned to George, who was blinking away tears now as the sun rose higher. Alexander hurried forward and all but collapsed onto him. He wrapped his arms around him tightly, and George gently pulled him closer.

"Sir.." Alexander whispered. "Call me son, one more time."

George felt the floodgates open. "S—son.." He whispered, pulling him closer.

He felt Alexander smile against his shoulder. "Thank you—" He pulled away, then gently placed his forehead against George's. He was smiling, tears running down his face. "—for being the father I never had."

The sun was up now. It shone down on them all, and George grabbed at Alexander's neck and pulled him closer, kissing him on his forehead. He whispered, "Of course, son."

The sudden brightness of the sun momentarily blinded them all, and George blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision.

But when it finally cleared, Alexander was no longer there.

George stood up and looked around. There, right outside the borders of the forest, was a beautiful, larger than normal wolf, with auburn fur and blue eyes. His eyes were bright as he stared back into the camp, his tail wagging just a bit, and his fur ruffling in the wind.

George turned back to the tent behind him to see all the injured or completely unscathed aides rushing out of the tent, yapping excitedly. They were all transformed into wolves now, too.

The former aides all ran into the forest, leaving the auburn wolf to gaze back at them by himself. George saluted him, and Aaron, Lafayette, and Hercules mimicked him. The auburn wolf stared at them, then did something that suspiciously looked like a nod. He briskly turned around to follow his new pack into the depths of the forest.

George watched them go with a throbbing ache in his heart. Then a comforting thought suddenly came to him:

Alexander may have been turned into a wolf completely, but George knew, in his heart of hearts, that Alexander was still there. He may not be able to speak to them, and he may not be able to remember what he used to be, but he was there, and forever would be, until the time came for him to leave this world.

And that was enough.


	17. Epilogue

It was Philip Hamilton's ninth birthday.

Philip had been practicing piano with his mother, who, like on most of his birthdays, seemed a little sad. I'm the middle of the song, Philip felt Eliza's hand stop above his own. Philip looked up at his mother with confusion written on his face. "Mom," He asked, seeing her eyes glistening. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, dear," She said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve quickly. "I just wish your father were here to see what a beautiful boy you're growing up to be."

Father. Philip had never known his father, but his mother and Mr. Washington had told him stories and explained that during the war, he had done something very special that caused the Americans to win, but had also somehow made his father unable to return home. Oftentimes, he would pretend it didn't hurt, but there was always still a little hole that wished for him. The father his mother and Mr. Washington, and even Uncle Mulligan always spoke so highly of.

Philip sighed silently through his nose, then hopped off of the piano chair and walked over to the window beside the door. Coming up the steps to the porch at that moment was Mr. Washington, carrying a bag. Philip grinned wide and opened the door, then flung himself at Mr. Washington's leg.

Mr. Washington stumbled backwards in surprise. "Philip!" He cried, laughing. "Happy birthday!" He exclaimed, bending down and kissing him on the head. Philip giggled as he dragged him inside by the hand.

"Hello, Mr. Washington, how's politics?" Eliza said sweetly, taking his bag and pulling off his coat.

Mr. Washington made a disgusted face. "I don't want to talk about it."

That expression of disgust just piqued Philip's interest even more. "Why not?" He asked innocently.

Mr. Washington looked down at him and chuckled. "Because it's very, very boring." He ruffled Philip's hair.

After he settled in, Mr. Washington called Philip to him and asked, "Son, do you want to see your father?"

Philip froze, and Eliza almost dropped a plate. "George," She said, putting it down onto the table and coming over. "Are you sure it's time?"

"Yes." He smiled at her. He turned back to Philip and nodded. "So, would you?"

Philip stared to at him to see if he was joking, but no, his expression was too serious. It was always easy to tell if he was kidding, but this time... It looked real. Philip looked up at his mom, who nodded at him while grinning. Philip turned back to Mr. Washington and nodded uncertainly. "Alright."

Taking Philip's hand, they both headed out into the garden. He sat Philip onto the back porch, then sat beside him. "See the forest?" He asked, pointing. Philip nodded. Mr. Washington grinned and whispered, "Every year on your birthday, and on your mother's birthday, and on your parent's anniversary, and even on Christmas, your father comes to the edge of the forest so he can catch a glimpse of his family."

Philip turned to him, confused. "But why have I never seen him?"

Mr. Washington chuckled. "I think you have. You just didn't realize he was your father then." Then he held a finger up to his lips and said, "Now, I want you to sit still and be very, very quiet while we wait for your father to arrive."

So Philip obeyed. He sat very still and kept his eyes glued into the shadows of the forest, looking at Mr. Washington every once in a while to see if he would tell him he's kidding.

But everytime he turned to look at him, he'd find him smiling with excitement.

Soon, his patience was rewarded. Out from behind the trees came a large, auburn colored wolf, with bright blue, intelligent eyes. Philip stared. He felt Mr. Washington's hand on his own as the older man whispered, "There he is."

Philip stared deep into the wolf's eyes. The strange longing that put an ache in his heart dissappeared, and the hole in his heart somehow filled itself. If Philip had been a little bit older, he probably wouldn't have believed that it was true, that it was all a joke.

But, with that wisdom a child has, he knew.

Philip, without looking up at Mr. Washington, breathed, "I.. I've seen this wolf before. I always thought I'd imagined it, and imagined the love I felt coming from it, but.. It's real. It's all real."

Mr. Washington smiled. "Yes, he is, son. He's real."

Philip turned back to the wolf, who was still there watching them. Philip could have sworn he saw tears running down its eyes, and a small smile somehow tugging at the canine lips. Philip grinned and waved at the wolf, and the wolf nodded its head gently.

Then he turned and returned to the forest.

"He's watching over you, Philip. He always has been." Mr. Washington said, putting his hand on his small shoulder.

Philip leaned against Mr. Washington's warm body and smiled happily. "And he always will be?" He asked. Mr. Washington smiled and nodded at him. "Always." He said as he kissed him on the head once again.


End file.
